


Walk Me Home

by Dis_connect



Category: jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Worldbuilding, experimenting with characters, pretty fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 17:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dis_connect/pseuds/Dis_connect
Summary: Anti's back with news but he's still buzzing from the journey.  Dark is sure it can wait.





	Walk Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> A touch of world-building and character interactions, trying to find voices and places and the feel of things for a bigger idea. First fic in this incredibly freeform-fluid fandom. Inspired by P!nk: Walk Me Home

Rain had passed through not long ago, the streets still wet and glittering. Though the Void had no seasons, there was a coolness to the air that kept the humidity from stifling residents. Red light reflected off the wet street, beaming from a humming neon sign declaring the Tropes Cafe 'open'. It had a glass door propped open to allow the cool air to circulate and within, a single employee kept one eye to the ovens and the other to the lone occupied table. 

“I think we’re starting to circle back. It's not making sense anymore."

Anti picked up his head and pushed away from the table to crack his back. “There’s just somethin’ weird, I’m telling ya.”

Dark sipped at his coffee. “I believe you. I don’t think we’ll find it right now. You’re exhausted.”

“An’ you’re ugly.” he snipped back.

Dark rolled his eyes at the childish retort. “My point is, you’ve just returned. Give it some time for things to fall into place.”

Anti sighed and closed his notebook with a solid thump. He polished off his coffee and scrubbed at his face. “Fine. You been keepin’ an eye on my brothers?”

Mugs clinked as Dark collected them. “I’ll tell you about them on the walk home.”

“Such a gentleman.” Anti teased. Still, he collected his books, his observations, his thoughts, and dropped them all back into his bag. Dark returned with two to-go cups and they headed out. 

Though there was no middle-realm sense of time in the Void, it was arguably late. Most residents timed their activities around their Origins, watching stars wink out and flare to life and feeling energy ebb and flow accordingly. Most were already resting but even if it were a time of bustling activity, few were those bold enough to mess with these particular egos, especially in their current companionable state. Anti’s eyes glowed from the depths of his hood, drawn to avoid the light misting rain that had started up. Dark appeared all the broader and more menacing for the coat he wore and the subtle flash of red in his eyes. 

When he was in the Void, Anti maintained a residence closer to the Iplier estate than his own brothers. It was partially convenience and partially sanity - too much exposure to his own family made Anti very twitchy. Granted, the Ipliers didn’t do much better for him but they were easier to distract and escape from. On the walk, Dark updated Anti on the state of his brethren as he knew it. Anti would find out more details when he visited but he always appreciated a set of eyes to his excitable kin while he was away.

They turned onto his street and Anti felt their time coming to a close. Energy and emotion built in his chest, uncomfortable and prickly. He grew quiet and scowled, hunching in on himself. As they reached his building he stomped up the stairs, glitching with each step. He pulled out his keys, gripped them tightly, and sighed in defeat. “Want to come in?” he snapped.

Dark blinked. He’d been in Anti’s home before. With and without him. He had his own key for god’s sake (given under the promise of perma-death if it _ever_ ended up in the hands of his brothers). So this sudden shift in temper was…

A smile threatened but he wasn’t going to show it. It would start an ugly fight right there in the street. Anti had been away for an age, no doubt with only his own thoughts for company and his voice used only for screaming. How long had it been since he'd just sat down and...talked? “Certainly.”

Anti grunted but smiled in a satisfied sort of way as he shoved the door open and stepped through. Dark entered with a sense of curiosity, looking about as he shed his coat. Mark lived with clean lines and an almost minimalistic, white-and-grey style about his home. Dark lived among rich colors and cozy furnishings. He couldn’t speak for Sean but Anti’s place was organized chaos. Books and journals were stacked on every shelf and surface. They were full of drawings and stories and half-finished bits of musical compositions. Knick-knacks appeared here and there, collections of items with some sentimental value known only to Anti. The kitchen escaped the chaos, an eye of calm amid the storm, and Anti wove among stacks until he reached it. Their to-go cups were tossed in the bin before Anti began rummaging about, seeing what he left behind.

Dark followed, shedding his coat as he went because the house was incredibly warm from being locked up and unused. His jacket was slung on the back of a dining room chair. “You’ve added to your collection since I was here last.”

Anti laughed derisively and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, pressing it to his neck. “Heh, yeah. Damn books. Can’t seem to get rid of them.”

“Mind if I crack the windows?”

“Hell yeah. Hotter than a demon’s ballsack in here.”

“Handled many in your day?”

“Only when I can’t get a date.” He made a face and grabbed his crotch.

Dark scoffed and felt the immediate relief of a cool breeze flowing through the place with the first window opened. They popped all the windows and Dark placed his tie with his jacket. Anti’s home had been locked up for an age.

“Water?”

“Sure.” Dark’s hand snapped up and caught the bottle chucked at his head. When Anti snickered then grimaced, Dark scowled. “Let me see.”

“Not t’night, sweetheart. I’m too tired.”

Dark growled. “For fuck’s sake, Anti.”

With a melodramatic sigh, Anti hopped up and planted his butt on the kitchen island. He cracked open his own water and chugged a few hard swallows from it. “Come on then, mother hen.”

Dark gently tilted Anti’s head to the side and peeled away the bandage that looked more like a scrap of shirt wrapped around Anti’s neck. The skin beneath was dirty and the scar half-healed but definitely inflamed. Something had gotten a slash in that wasn't Anti. There were pockets of milky-green infection developing. He clucked his tongue and patted Anti’s cheek. “Stay.”

Much to Dark’s surprise, Anti was still there when he returned from his short trip to the bathroom for fresh bandages and alcohol. Dark held an open hand between their chests. “Knife.”

“Kinky bitch.” Anti purred smartly. Still, he produced his knife from whatever pocket of space it was held in and flipped it so the handle dropped squarely into Dark’s palm. It was the one knife that could truly injure him so he kept it very close.

Dark went about the business of carefully knicking open the worst of the inflammation, where infection was clear, and washing the entire scar clean. He tried his best to not apply any emotion to the situation but it was difficult to deny a sense of pride and, maybe, the tiniest feeling of warmth that he was trusted to be this close, to handle something so delicate. Anti was...not the easiest to get near. Physically or otherwise. And this time Dark hardly had to say anything to get Anti to sit down and accept the care so...progress? Was there anything to progress?

He set that thought far aside.

“This looks worse than usual.”

Anti shrugged awkwardly. “I needed a bigger kill than the small fry my arms bait.”

Blood, fresh and hot, was by far the fastest way to draw in shadows. Anti knew what he was doing. Dark knew that he knew.

He still worried, in spite of his best efforts at distance.

“Didn’t have time to stop and clean up after.” Anti finished the thought, eyes focused on the subtle language of Dark’s facial movements. “Had to run my ass off ‘cause something _much_ bigger came for my kill.”

“What about the kit your brother made for you?”

“Schneep?” He flinched at a particularly sharp cut that grazed live skin. Dark made no apologies but his lips pressed together into a furtive line and that was enough. “Little doctor bro asked too many questions. Couldn’t get him to give me a kit without tellin’ him why I needed it.”

Dark exhaled firmly. “I gave him express instructions.”

“Dunno if you’ve noticed but the Septic clan sorta does their own shit.”

“I’ll have Andrew make one up. He’s not stupid enough to question me.”

“Schneep’s not stupid.” Anti’s eyes narrowed a touch. “Jus’ wanted to know what I’d be up against.”

Dark glowered back as he directed Anti’s head to lean the other way. “Where do they think you go? Fluffy-bunny hunting?”

There was far less work to be done on the right side, it seemed, for Dark directed his head upright and chin up. Anti cleared his throat. “They, uh...they may still think I’m a completely heartless murderer.”

Dark cocked a brow as he wound fresh bandages over the cleaned scar. “How long will you let them imagine that? Can’t Jameson sniff out a liar at a hundred paces?”

“Fisticuffs?” Anti huffed in amusement. Dark made a noise of annoyance and redirected Anti’s chin. “Even a natural-born lie detector can be confused with enough half-truths. They don’t know what’s up or down about me.”

“And it suits you fine, I imagine.” Dark tutted, finishing off the bandage. “There you are.”

Anti twisted his head about, satisfied at the job. “Can’t have them seein’ me as some weakling lil’ pup who can’t even take care of his own self-inflicted wounds, now can I? An’ _you_ hardly have room t’talk about how you’re seen by yer kin, ya squishy edgelord.”

They scowled at one another and Dark broke first, cracking his neck as he opened his water and took a sip. His voice echoed slightly when he spoke, such was his irritation. “Rest. Give that time to truly heal.”

“Peh.” Anti waved the stern advice away. “One, two days. Same old same.” He hopped off the island and rubbed at the fresh bandage. A sigh slid from him as he looked around, shoulders rolling in the sudden surge of awkward tension.

Dark stopped inadvertently choking the water bottle and scoffed. He maneuvered to the living room and dropped onto the sofa, legs stretched out and ankles crossed on the coffee table. After a moment of digging around he unearthed the remote and flipped on the TV. Markiplier TV hadn’t come to pass yet (a small miracle) but there were other options available for denizens of the Void. As he flipped through channels, he heard Anti uneasily approaching and clearing his throat.

“Uh...don’ you need to get back to your house?”

Dark just shrugged and sagged deeper into the sofa. “One of my shows is on.”

A minute of brittle quiet passed between them, disrupted by chatter from the TV. Anti slowly made his way onto the couch, dropping down with a sigh as he accepted the unspoken offer of company and the sting of mercy after his cheap shot. “You fuckin’ hate TV, ya lying sack.”

Dark threw the remote onto the low table and spread his arms over the back of the couch. He studied the lines of tension in Anti’s form, the distance in his eyes as he stared at the screen, and when he spoke, his voice rumbled. “Let it go for now. Relax.”

Anti scrubbed at his face and sighed his heaviest sigh yet. He dropped backwards, head and shoulders cradled under Dark’s arm. A perfect position for him to end up getting choked but for then, Anti felt safe and it was only minutes between that and the invisible weight of Dark’s stare before Anti became dead weight, asleep for the first time in days.


End file.
